


Cloak and Dagger

by caketoss



Category: StarCraft
Genre: Dominance, M/M, NSFW, Near Death Experiences, One Shot, PWP, Pseudo breath-play, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6040339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caketoss/pseuds/caketoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zeratul teaches Tassadar a thing or two about flirting with the void.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cloak and Dagger

As a rule, Zeratul and Tassadar made love cloaked in shadows. Even when unnecessary, it was an axiom always adhered to; their own private tradition. And as ever, it was Zeratul the aggressor, pinning his Khalai lover to the ground with sharp, dominating thrusts.

Tassadar trembled under Zeratul’s onslaught, toes curling as the Nerazim tore into him with swift abandon. A series of choked, desperate gasps escaped Tassadar’s mind, claws clinging and slicing into the strong shoulders rounded forward in tense concentration above him. With his eyes screwed tightly shut and his chin tucked hard against his chest, Tassadar’s body curled inwards in a weak defense against the Dark Templar’s assault. Zeratul shivered; relishing the sight of the High Templar clinging fiercely to his own sticky, heated flesh. He loved him this way; loved how Tassadar bore each thrust with a stiff jerk, his damp back coated thickly with dust as he was pressed roughly into the warm, sandy earth beneath them. But though Tassadar was thoroughly soaked and willing, his body seemed to fight Zeratul’s intrusion, the muscles in his groin tensing wildly in rebellion. And despite his obviously ecstatic disposition, Tassadar let not a single moan pass through his mind.

Since the start of their habitual liaisons, Zeratul had accepted Tassadar’s characteristic silence as a simple, endearing quirk. But tonight, Zeratul’s mind buzzed with a primal desire to break through his lover’s walls, to rip unrestrained cries of ecstasy from the High Templar’s mind in that captivating, sonorous voice. And Zeratul had a plan. Slowing his thrusts nearly to a halt, the Nerazim rubbed gently back and forth against Tassadar’s dripping slit. He spared a glance down to the point of their joining, the sight of the base of his dark, smooth organ stretching Tassadar’s soaked folds sending a deep ripple of pleasure sliding lusciously down his spine. The need to subjugate Tassadar completely was irresistible. 

Tassadar took advantage of the pause to allow his arms to fall, exhausted, to his sides.  _Typical._ Zeratul chided the High Templar as he withdrew himself from his student’s depths, leaving only his tip to touch and tease at the throbbing slit nestled between taut, trembling thighs. Tassadar seemed somehow distant even now as his body begged to be filled again, the ache for his lover’s return hanging palpably in the tepid night air. But Zeratul relaxed as he reached a hand forward, pressing and dragging a single sharp claw beneath the angular chin of the younger protoss beneath him. The piercing pain shocking Tassadar’s senses back to life, awareness fluttering back to the forefront of his mind at the threatening touch against sensitive skin. Tassadar slowly blinked open sky blue eyes, glowing provocatively beneath the dark shroud they shared, before raising his gaze seductively to meet the green stare piercing the darkness above him with mischievous amusement. Zeratul’s eyes narrowed in a smile, letting devilish anticipation linger like a mist to settle heavily against their heaving, sweat-drenched bodies. Tassadar fidgeted; the suspense was too much, he needed Zeratul _now_. Fevered psionic vibrations passed from Tassadar’s body to lick against Zeratul's skin, daring and urging him on to do his worst.

It was too much. Digging clawed toes into the hard, sandy earth, Zeratul launched forward and sunk himself violently into his intrepid companion. The High Templar shuddered hard as a fresh wave of sensation tore through his flesh; pleasure and searing agony flooding his senses; opposed sensations locked in a twisted battle for dominance over his consciousness. Tassadar could feel himself sundering at the will of his lover’s organ, feeling it twist and writhe as if to purposefully push his body beyond what he could bear. Each rough jab perfectly punctuated Zeratul’s growing insistence; but Tassadar could feel what Zeratul wanted of him, and he had no intentions of giving in so easily.

The Nerazim’s roguery abraded delightfully against his consciousness. Zeratul’s sly intent to pull him from his tranquil acquiescence could not, _would_ not break him. Letting his eyes fall shut once more, Tassadar settled into the sweet torment of his lover’s aggression just as he always had, by surrendering to the sensation, letting it besiege him and cast him off into whimsical abandon.

Zeratul was incensed by his partner’s languorous resign. Growing impatient, he grabbed Tassadar’s wrists and jerked them roughly upwards, pinning the High Templar’s hands forcibly above his head. Finally, _finally_ Tassadar cried out as he was caught by surprise, Zeratul's new impetus unleashing a penetrating surge of arousal to shock and tantalize his flesh. Pleased at last, Zeratul’s eyes flashed dangerously - he'd finally uncovered the trigger he'd been looking for.

The Nerazim left one hand pinning Tassadar’s wrists to the ground and reached down with impossible speed to wrap the other firmly around his throat. The sudden constriction caused Tassadar’s eyes to fly open, a stream of pleas borne of his burning desire floating wistfully forth from his mind. Zeratul responded with silence. Tassadar arched his back, his legs dropping and heels kicking against the loose earth in an attempt to free himself from the pressure upon the delicately housed network of nerves and arteries pressed precariously beneath his lover’s grasp. But even as he struggled, there was no mistaking the wanton nature of his ragged moans; articulating that _yes_ , he needed this, _YES-- PLEASE!_

Zeratul paused to revel in the breathy, desperate overture that affirmed his victory. He bathed in the erratic psionic emissions now pouring from the High Templar beneath him, his mind wild with a ravenous hunger at the sight of Tassadar thrashing and begging helplessly under his hand. Increasing the pressure at Tassadar’s throat just so, Zeratul shifted back before lunging forward again, driving his organ forward and upwards to dig into the pliant flesh within. Tassadar groaned loudly and drew his legs back, allowing Zeratul to plunge savagely into his depths. He found himself becoming quickly overwhelmed by the tide of delicious psionic energy pulsing between them, resonating from the point their bodies met to ignite every inch of his flesh. 

Though the sudden and intense pressure at his throat had startled Tassadar at first, what he felt now was nothing short of euphoria. His vision was softly beginning to fade into darkness as the input from his senses blended together before seeming to float away from his physical body. Though Tassadar’s eyes remained wide open, he could no longer see Zeratul - but he could certainly still feel him. He felt the carefully balanced power in the hands restraining and choking him; the impossibly thick organ sliding deeper, faster; the pinnacle of each thrust generating wave after precious wave of pain laced with ecstasy. He keenly felt the Nerazim’s dark, dominating personality consuming him; claiming and owning him utterly. Soon he felt as if he were no longer anything at all, his only purpose in that moment to heed the dark power of the Zeratul’s will. Tassadar felt as nothing more than a wisp of void to be mastered, wielded, manipulated.

The wet, rhythmic sound of Zeratul’s quickening jabs became muted, following the way of his vision and fading gradually to silence. Tassadar's muscles then began to relax against his will, causing his head to sink to the side and rest against the hand that leached the life from his limp body. Delirious, Tassadar accepted his surrender to the darkness, jovially releasing his hold on the world around him as if he were floating into the void itself. Soon, all semblance of sensation was gone, his body lost utterly and irretrievably into the void, sweet and warm and welcoming… _nothing_. He was gone.

...Until it all came rushing back. Tassadar’s slam back into consciousness was rough and unexpected. Zeratul’s hand was no longer at his throat, and a strangled sob escaped him that he hadn’t intended to emit. Disoriented and stunned, Tassadar could only fathom at the extent to which his mind had been consumed by emotion and physical deprivation in his act of complete surrender to his Nerazim lover. Zeratul’s last strokes were tender and slow before he ceased altogether, providing reprieve to the bruised and bleeding slit between the High Templar’s trembling thighs. Zeratul’s gaze, now gentle and soft, was filled with silent, comforting affection that overflowed from brilliant green eyes. It seemed they had both reached their release, judging from the familiar spent feeling lingering in his groin and Zeratul’s softening organ easing back and out of Tassadar’s stretched, dripping entrance.

After a moment of quiet stillness, Zeratul released Tassadar’s wrists and sat back on his haunches, placing his hands to rest on the High Templar’s stomach. Tassadar shivered at the light sensation of a thumb stroking gently over his damp skin, the touch coaxing forth bright streaks of blue energy to pour from his eyes. Never before had the he felt such a deep and overwhelming affection for a lover, a teacher, a friend - and he was quite certain it had everything to do with the way Zeratul had balanced his life so delicately on the edge between death and scintillating, vibrant existence. They both understood just how close to death Tassadar had come - but that was the idea, after all. To be one with the infinite and eternal night, if just for a moment, before crashing back into the world below. Zeratul’s eyes crinkled in satisfaction, knowing that Tassadar now understood the Nerazim as only one who has touched the void truly can.

As Dark Templar himself.


End file.
